New Talents on Display at ND/NF

New Directors/New Films—an annual festival organized by Film at Lincoln Center and MoMA—is perhaps the easiest way for New Yorkers to bask in a sea of new films–which are all debuts or sophomore outings–from some of world cinema’s most promising new voices. The nature of the festival also provides a rare look at filmmakers finding their footing, taking bold stylistic and narrative risks to tell stories that usually feel fresh, warranted and necessary. Sure, at the festival, it’s possible to catch some hotly-anticipated films from major independent studios. But the most thrilling part of ND/NF is discovering a film you’ve never heard of, a director whose career you eventually get to watch unfold, knowing you were there from the start.

This year, the ND/NF lineup represented everything the festival does best. The curators did a great job selecting films that don’t shy away from taking risks, from communicating more difficult subjects and themes to relay. In the process, they showcased a new generation of talents, most of whose premier works are sure to influence a great filmography to come.

Worth A Watch

Gábor Reisz’s Explanation for Everything is a sprawling, timely look at the culture war and the way people can misread simple situations  and blow them up to dramatic, concerning proportions. The Hungarian film follows Abel, a young, high school senior who fails his oral graduation exam in History, to the anger and dismay of his parents. After he tells his parents that he failed because his history professor noticed and grilled him for a nationality pin he was wearing on his suit, tensions quickly spur out of control as Abel’s case gains national attention. At 152 minutes, the film is far too long for its own good, often complicating a simple plotline with unnecessary sidebars and cloudy character motivations. Regardless, it’s extremely entertaining, providing important commentary through both sharp dialogue and incredible performances.

Aaron Schimberg’s A Different Man is a confident satire driven by its powerhouse performances and narrative fearlessness. The film follows Edward (Sebastian Stan), a lonely and unconfident man with a facial condition who undergoes an experimental surgery to “fix” said condition. Even after changing his appearance and adopting a new name, he discovers his personality hasn’t changed–especially after he agrees to star in a play directed by his former neighbor (Renate Reinsve). The film never strays too far away from this plotline, relying instead on absurd developments and extremely dark one-liners to keep the film’s tone equally light and somber. The dry humor makes way for well-delivered themes on self-identity and inner beauty, but some of the narrative’s odder developments, as well as the film’s slightly-too-long 110-minute runtime, slightly undercut their impact.

Oksana Karpovych’s Intercepted is a unique documentary with a new kind of perspective on Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. The 93-minute film consists solely of shots of a decimated Ukraine paired with intercepted phone conversations between Russian soldiers and their mothers. While the film functions as a freeform documentary, a quasi-narrative does develop as the soldiers learn more about the “ideals” they are fighting for, both recognizing and denying the horror of their actions to frustrating lengths. The documentary realizes and transcends the potential of its form, showcasing that you can both directly communicate terror and imply it using something as simple as static images and faceless conversations.

Good, But Not Great

Jiajun Zhang’s All, or Nothing At All is a two-part film that you could play in either order, given that the two parts share the same actors and shopping center setting yet nothing more. Each part follows one of the characters spectating the other, wandering around the giant mall to pass their days and having simple, somewhat empty conversations. The film’s lack of narrative is intentional, aiming to capture the soullessness of the corporate shopping experience before all else. In that regard, the film’s visual aesthetic is stunning—capturing the mall in all its vast, drab glory. Because of the distance from which the director frames the characters and their interactions, though, it’s all too easy for the viewer to lose themself within the feature—for better and for worse.

Shahab Mihandoust’s Meezan is a tight, 72-minute documentary capturing three different sides of the Iranian fishing industry–from the boatmen catching fish to the woman sorting and preparing fish in mass factories. The film oscillates through several documentary modes, featuring several extremely long, stationary sequences of workers going about their jobs. At times, the filmmakers ask the subjects about parts of their jobs, but these conversations are usually short and simple, often taking place during the film’s transitions from one aspect of the industry to another. While the documentary doesn’t completely work, often positioning its subjects at too far of a distance to introduce as many themes as possible, it still manages to be influential and thought-provoking in a short amount of time.

In Laura Ferrés’ The Permanent Picture, a connection forms between a casting director and a woman selling perfume on the street. But, there’s a twist: the former is the latter’s abandoned daughter, a reality that both of them discover in their own time and process. One of the most intriguing narratives of the festival, Ferrés’ direction often opts for visual storytelling rather than swaths of dialogue, achieving an impressive sense of catharsis that keeps the story captivating and intriguing, despite its (at times) sluggish pacing. Even if the film doesn’t entirely work, strong performances from a cast of primarily non-actors support the story well.

The Disappointments

André Novais Oliveira’s The Day I Met You is all about potential. The Brazilian film follows Zeca (Renato Novaes), a school librarian fired by his boss Louisa (Grace Passô) for several reasons, including his constant inability to arrive at work on time. Because Zeca lives far away from school, Louisa offers to drive him home. The two strike up a chat in the car, leading to a night of drinks, conversations and the potential for a relationship to form. With such a simple and promising plotline, it’s a true shame that the film’s dialogue is so surface-level, constantly on the cusp of uncovering more profound elements of the characters’ lives but never taking the extra leap to do so. At such a short runtime (71 minutes), the film moves extremely quickly, but its straightforward narrative and characters leave a lot to be desired.

I laughed exactly one time during Theda Hammel’s Stress Positions, a COVID-set satire following a group of eclectic Brooklynites trying to discover their identities. Reflecting on why that one joke worked for me in a film that manages to miss 99% of its comedic beats, I discovered that it was because the joke didn’t include dialogue. Most of the film is completely overwritten, an especially alarming problem given that it’s nearly impossible to figure out what story, and themes, Hammel is trying to center around. There’s so much going on in this 95-minute film, as the film’s principal ensemble and their personal journeys constantly intersect with one another in a messy, overwrought way. But, given how unlikeable the characters and caricature-ish both the characters and performances are, there might as well be nothing happening at all.